


fool them all like gold

by end_thistragedy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Angst, Emotional Cheating?, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-11 01:36:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4416080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/end_thistragedy/pseuds/end_thistragedy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You are genuinely the most infuriating person I have ever met.” </p><p>“Must be like looking in the mirror, no?” Harry bites back, and Zayn’s jaw sets. </p><p>The AU where it's been years since Harry's been home and Zayn's moved on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fool them all like gold

**Author's Note:**

> this is the result of reading flash fiction and thinking "I think I can do that!"

Zayn apparently has a girlfriend or something like it and she's nice and pretty and Harry quite frankly doesn't see the appeal.

"Don't." Liam warns, tired. He'd been on his phone texting or checking his Facebook or Twitter, but he looks up and fixes Harry with a look. "Haz."

"I'm not going to do anything."

"It's a good thing, like. Just--don't ruin it, okay? Don't be that guy."

"How'd they meet."

"Why don't you ask them." Liam says, but when Harry just stares at him, he sighs, relenting. "They met at uni."

"And she's here all summer? Where is she staying?"

"She's got a room at the inn. But everyone knows that's just for appearances really...look, Harry, you moved away. You couldn't have expected him to--"

"Liam." Harry cradles his hands on Liam's cheeks. "It's fine. Come and watch Niall rip off people at pool."

"I feel like we should talk about this some more." Liam frowns down at the table, and Harry rolls his eyes pointedly.

"Well I don't. Come on. Or stay here I don't care. I'm walking away from this conversation."

Zayn and his girlfriend or something like it are by the pool table watching Niall's match. Zayn’s sat on one of the stools against the wall and she's snug between his legs. He has one arm wrapped around her and the other holding a beer.

Harry can't even begin to comprehend the happily inebriated state he's in.

"Place your bet, Haz! " Niall yells, and someone shoves Niall's snapback full of money into his hands.

Harry cheaps out and fishes a five out of his wallet. "Go big or go home."

Someone boos and Niall cackles into Harry’s ear, swinging an arm over his shoulder. He places a cold, sloppy kiss to Harry’s cheek.

Harry groans and shoves at Niall playfully, "Hey, now, wouldn't want to make your boy jealous."

Niall flicks his eyes over Harry’s shoulder to where he knows Zayn is sat and quirks an eyebrow, "I'd say the same to you."

Harry gives him the finger, then, and dodges his attempt to poke him with the pool stick as he takes a stool on the other side of the table.

Liam joins him not long after and leans against Harry’s back, his chin on his shoulder as he cheers Niall on. Harry manages to successfully avoid looking past the game at Zayn. He's actually so impressed that he keeps himself distracted the entirety of the game with him and Liam exaggerating their duty as Niall's moral support. When Niall inevitably wins, he and Liam attack him and Harry climbs up his back and shouts victory at the crowd.

It's not until Harry’s been dropped onto the edge of the pool table and handed a beer of his own that Harry even remembers Zayn’s presence in the bar. Zayn doesn't hesitate to remind him as he leans against the table beside Harry, the subtle smirk on his face that irks Harry beyond reason.

"Hey."

"Hi." Harry says, absently, watching Liam and Niall hook arms and chug down their beers, and not watching Zayn stare at him. When it's silent between the two of them for too long, Harry glances over at him and back just as quickly. "Did you want something?"

He thinks he hears Zayn laugh a little bitterly, but chooses to ignore it. "Just saying hi. You haven't said a word to me all night."

"Didn't want to interrupt." Harry says, "You seemed occupied enough."

"She knows who you are. Not saying anything is rude."

"Two way street, man."

"I'm talking to you now, aren't I?"

"While she's in the restroom? Is that it? You didn't seem too keen on it before."

"Do we have to do this?"

"No." Harry snorts, sliding off of the table and onto his feet sloppily. "We really don't."

Harry stumbles his way through the crowd and out into the night. He feels the pockets of Liam's jacket until his fingers find the box of cigarettes. He pats one out and fishes the lighter out of his jean pocket. He hasn't smoked since Zayn gave him a cigarette at a party sophomore year of college and he'd ended up bent over the balcony of the house, coughing up a lung. He'd stuck to weed from then on, didn't like the way the it settled in his chest.

Harry's taking the first drag off the cigarette when he hears footsteps approaching him. He turns just in time to see Zayn's disapproving frown when he realizes what's brought Harry out here.

"What are you doing?"

"What's it look like."

"You don't smoke."

"How would you know. A lot's changed, Zayn."

Zayn steps forward and snatches the cigarette out of Harry's hand, "Give me that, you idiot, you'll give yourself an asthma attack." He says, putting it in his mouth instead. "Give me your keys, as well."

Harry very nearly huffs, digging into his back pocket and throwing the keys at Zayn before folding his arms over his chest. "You're fucking unbearable."

Zayn snorts, cupping his hand around the flame of his lighter as he lights the cigarette. "Oh, I've certainly missed that."

"Leave me alone, Zayn."

Zayn holds up his hands in defense, Harry carefully turning away at the sight of the cigarette dangling out of the corner of his mouth. "What? I'm just out here having a smoke."

"Is that what you're doing," Harry says, sarcastically.

"Yeah." Zayn sounds like he's smiling, but Harry's not going to check and see. "Though I probably shouldn't be because I'm supposed to have given it up."

"That your idea or hers?" Harry doesn't know why he cares.

Zayn makes an unhelpful sound that doesn't answer his question, but makes Harry turn his head, which is a colossal mistake because he's greeted with a smirking Zayn whose hair is falling in his face and whose eyes are staring back at Harry like he can't believe he's actually there and able to again. Harry hopes the look on his face is full of hatred and says the exact opposite.

"Your hair looks stupid."

"Nah," Zayn leans forward to tug on the end of Harry's hair, a curl that just nearly reaches his shoulder, ends up taking the steps to close the distance between them. "Yours looks sick. You always said you wanted to grow it out so you could whip it about properly."

Harry makes a face, "Why do you remember that."

"I remember everything." Zayn says, but he doesn't sound teasing anymore, the smile on his face fading a little as he turns to look out at the parking lot. A car's headlights illuminate their faces before disappearing as the car turns the corner into the next aisle. Harry had forgotten they were in public.

"Why did you follow me out here, Zayn."

"You left angry."

"So suddenly you care about me?"

"I've always cared about you."

"Could've fooled me."

"Jesus, Harry. And you think I'm unbearable? You are still such a brat."

"You’re an asshole." Harry retaliates, offended.

Zayn laughs at him, unaffected, tossing the cigarette on the ground and crushing it with the toe of his boot. "Come back inside idiot."

"Are you going to keep calling me that?"

"Are you going to keep acting like one?" Zayn rests his arm around Harry's shoulder, attempting to pulling him close, but it’s not that easy, it shouldn’t be so easy for Zayn to pull him back in.

So Harry shoves him off, shaking his head, “Please don’t touch me,” and Zayn stumbles back a few steps, gaining control over his body and leveling Harry with a look.

“Harry.”

“Just leave me alone, all right? Go back inside. She’s probably looking for you. Shouldn’t make it a habit.”

“Make what a habit?” Zayn asks, but it sounds like a challenge. He’s daring Harry to say it, to finally just say what’s on his mind. “ _Speak_ , Harry.”

And that’s it. And Zayn knows it is.

“You make a habit of abandoning people, leaving them with expectations.”

“You are genuinely the most infuriating person I have ever met.”

“Must be like looking in the mirror, no?” Harry bites back, and Zayn’s jaw sets.

"You're being unfair, you know that?" He says, “I’m not the one who left.”

Harry rolls his eyes, but Zayn doesn’t give him a chance to say anything.

"All you had to do was come back here and start acting like someone's kicked your damn puppy and everyone looks at me like I'm the bad guy. Like I'm not the one who got fucked over. Like this is somehow my fault. It's been five years since I've heard from you and you expect me to just forgive and forget?" Zayn snorts a laugh and says, "I knew you were selfish, but this is beyond incredible."

"Fuck you." Harry bites back, too angry to find another way to put it.

"Fuck me? Fuck _me_. All right, yeah. Fuck me, Haz, for waiting for you to call, or text, or email, or send a fucking letter. Fuck me for thinking about you every single day. Fuck me for feeling like shit and hating myself for an entire year because I'd lost the most important person in my life. Fuck me for not letting the boys talk about you when I'm around because the thought of you made me feel ill. Fuck me for being pathetically in love with you! No--” Zayn shakes his head, “Fuck you, Harry. You self-oriented, entitled fucking _prick_."

There are tears regrettably welling up in Harry's eyes, but he doesn't wipe them away. There’s a phantom lump in his throat, but he doesn’t swallow. He says, "You never told me you were in love with me."

And Zayn stares at him, blinking. "Is that what you--" he stops. "Out of all of that you focus on--"

"I heard everything you said, Zayn. I promise. It's just--you just said that you love me. What else am I supposed to focus on?"

"I hate you."

"No, you said you love me."

"That's not important. I am trying to tell you how much you drive me insane."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I am terrible. But you love me."

"Please stop saying that." Zayn begs.

"How long have you loved me?"

"Harry."

"How long?"

He gives in, too easily. He always has. "I was going to tell you,” he admits, “After graduation. Before you left."

Harry blinks. "But you didn't."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Harry, please."

"Zayn, no. I need to hear this. And you need to say it. For once in your life, just say something."

"Because you had plans,” He says, running a nervous hand over his shaved head, “I don't know."

"No don't do that. Don't shut off. Talk to me. Please. What plans?"

"You were going to get out of here and have a career and I wasn't. I knew I was going to be stuck here. I knew I had to be. I had responsibilities and you had dreams and I couldn't--" He stops again.

"What? You couldn't what?" Harry presses.

"I couldn't get in the way of that." Zayn admits, words hitting Harry hard, filling him with guilt. "I wouldn't let myself."

"I wanted you to come with me." He says without missing a beat, “I wanted you there.”

"I couldn't. And you knew that. It killed me that you even asked."

"Then I would have stayed."

"That's exactly what I didn't want. You hated it here."

"I would have suffered through it for you. I would've done anything for you if you'd just asked."

"I didn't want that either. You'd resent me, you fucking would don't look at me like that." Zayn says when Harry makes a contrary face. "It was better that way, yeah? Look at you, now."

"I'm still the same. I'm the Harry you fell in love with. Nothing has changed."

Zayn shakes his head, and something drops in Harry's stomach at the look he gives him. There’s something more, something he’s not telling him. "I never deserved you, you know that. This never would have worked. Two different ends of the spectrum you and me. Never gonna meet in middle."

"How could you say that? How could you give up that easily?"

"Because I watched you walk away?" Zayn says, the question sounding lodged in his throat. "Because I let you."

Harry stares at Zayn, a pain in his chest that feels like someone's got a hold on his heart and is just squeezing and twisting it around like they're turning a knob, trying to get in.

And then he groans and falls down sloppily to lie himself on the ground.

Zayn makes a surprised sound, stepping back on instinct, "The fuck, Haz?"

Harry lies on his back, places his hands on his stomach, the damp coolness of the concrete seeping through his shirt. "Do you remember--" He stops and closes his eyes, swallows around the phantom lump in his throat. "D'you remember that time we tried to recreate that one scene from The Notebook? The one where they're lying together in the street and she's just looking at him like he's the most incredible and the most exhilarating person she's ever seen in her life?"

"Get off the ground, Harry."

"You do remember." Harry says, matter of factly. "You fucked me so hard that night I felt you in my bones, felt it shooting through my veins." He opens his eyes, turning his head to gaze up at Zayn who's looking down at him a lot less annoyed than he would've expected. "There was no place, no one I would've rather been with than you. Would've got on my knee right then and there if I was sure you'd've said yes."

Zayn's eyes widen slightly, it's only for a second, but Harry sees it. And he uses it, that vulnerability. He was always good at that. "Come and lay with me, Zayn. Let me feel what it's like to be that close again to the person I'm madly and helplessly in love with. At least one more time."

"Jesus, Haz."

But Zayn sits down next to him, more gracefully than Harry had, and eases himself onto his back, elbow knocking against Harry's and sending a spark of lightning down Harry's spine.

"We look like idiots."

"I really wish you'd have told me, Z." Harry speaks before he's ready.

He feels Zayns shrug. "I think you already knew."

"I wasn't sure. You know how self-absorbed I am I could have been imagining it."

"I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"Don't be. I deserved that. No one yells at me even though they should."

Zayn smacks his lips, sounding aggrieved when he says, "Shut up. Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Say shit like that? All self-deprecating? What've you got against yourself?"

"How much time do you have?"

Zayn rolls over onto his side, Harry can feel the heat of his gaze. "Stop it. You've always done that. And it's never been about you baiting for compliments. You really believe it."

"Believe what?"

"That you're not worth anything."

Harry stays quiet.

"Look at you. For fuck's sake, Haz. You're worth everything."

Harry squeezes his eyes shut, "Please don't say things like that."

"Why not? Because you don't believe it?"

"Because it hurts like hell, coming from you." Harry says, "Because if that's what you really think, Zayn, then why--"

But the sound of the pub's doors bursting open and Niall's raucous laugh, veers him to a stop.

But it's Liam’s voice that shouts at them, "Hey, hey, what the hell is this?"

Harry opens his eyes and Zayns leaning over him, staring down at him, looking torn, before he's sitting up and turning to shout back, "Fuck off, Li."

"We interrupting something?"

"Obviously."

"We thought you left ages ago."

"So just pretend we did, yeah?" Zayn looks guarded, "Seriously, Liam."

But Harry sits up then, seeing the tense of Zayn's jaw and not wanting to see the two of them get into an argument. Liam’ll sit there and poke Zayn until he bursts.

"Think I'm gonna go."

Zayn looks at him, face softening. "Harry, we--"

“I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Harry can feel a dampness seeping through his shirt and the sharp pain in his back from hitting the concrete is a sick equivalent to the feeling budding in his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> <3


End file.
